


Help Wanted

by quantumoddity



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (not on page but aftermath is seen), Abusive Relationships (later on), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Caduceus Clay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Caduceus Clay is finally starting to find his feet in the city, ever since he moved away from the family graveyard. He's opened his own cafe, he's found his own friends, he's found the freedom he's been looking for.However, with his cafe growing, he's realised he needs an assistant. Fortunately, his friends know someone who would be perfect- Fjord, back in town and looking for a job before he can go out on the ocean again.And things get complicated from there.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord (endgame), Captain Avantika/Fjord (Critical Role) (at first), Fjord & Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha (background), Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast (background)
Comments: 95
Kudos: 389





	1. Chapter 1

Caduceus didn’t know how to have friends.

He knew how to have siblings. How to love and hate them with the same ferocity and at the same time, for how they reflected your own flaws back at you and made you laugh so hard you didn’t think your jaw would ever be the same again. He knew how to have parents. To have them hold your face and tell you they loved you so deeply and sincerely you thought your heart might burst and then have them make decisions you couldn’t understand. He knew how to have family. 

But Caduceus did not know how to have friends. 

That hadn’t worried him too much when he’d first moved out of the grove and into the city. The only thing he’d been concerned with then was getting to be himself. Learning how to be alone, finally of his own free will. Silence by choice.

And he’d managed that. Hours and hours of silence, in the tiny apartment he’d rented and then made even tinier by stuffing it full of plants. And, after he’d eventually figured out how banks worked, silence in the storefront he’d bought, with the sagging roof and the warped flooring and the rats. Hours and hours of silence, broken only by his sawing and hammering and holding long conversations with the rats, promising to drive them up to the woods and find them new nests. 

And finally, silence after a long, long day in his cafe, called the Blooming Grove in a fit of questionable humour, the silence that fell after the bell rang out at the retreating back of the last customer, the silence that wasn’t really a silence because the coffee machine would always be humming, the ovens grumbling, the clink of mugs as he washed them one by one, the music he’d play and keep on as he closed up. 

But then something happened that surprised Caduceus, as much as his own contentment had. 

Friends found him. And they taught him how it was done. 

“That’s the third yawn you’ve stifled behind a mug today, Caduceus.” 

Caleb had a habit of stating his observations aloud, often not realising what he was observing was something another person was trying to hide. It was endearing in its way, except when you were that person. 

“Another late night?” Molly stood next to Caleb, as always. Lately the two had been impossible to separate, ever since they’d officially become an item after making eyes at each other for months, all while insisting there was no way the other would ever be into someone like them. Caleb’s arm, threaded through Molly’s, the tielfing’s head resting lightly on top of the human’s, proved that they’d kind of been idiots about the whole thing. 

“Not that late,” Caduceus shrugged and busied himself with the pair’s drink orders. He’d memorised them both, of course, but if he looked like he was concentrating maybe they’d stop asking him questions he didn’t want to answer. Not that it didn’t brighten his day when his friends came in- which happened every day- but he knew where this was leading. 

Caduceus wandered down to where his counter turned into the domain of two immense hulking beasts of steel and copper, his drinks machines, cantankerous old things that would only work for him. He began pressing buttons and twisting dials like he was playing a very broken organ, trying to appear busy. Unfortunately, Molly followed him down, Caleb in tow, peering over the glass cloches full of the day’s baked goods. 

“Was it last night? Or technically this morning?” he pressed, concern in his voice.

Cad pulled a lever down, sending up a gout of caffeine scented steam, and sighed. He didn’t like to lie. But he also didn’t like the discussion the truth would invite. So he said nothing.

He focused on the coffees instead. Dark as sin for Caleb, with a number of espresso shots that made him feel guilty for his part in his friend’s inevitable early grave, no sugar at all because his stomach couldn’t process it properly. Spoonfuls of cinnamon and chai spice in Molly’s along with generous spoonfuls of caramel just on the verge of burnt and clouds of whipped cream so the drink was bitter, spicy, sweet and rich all at once. 

The tiefling clearly did not appreciate being ignored and wouldn’t let it stop him. He leaned forward, over the box of lemon and poppyseed cake bars that weren’t selling as well as Cad had hoped, like not getting the firbolg’s attention was the problem. 

“Cad, you are going to run yourself into the ground if you keep on like this,” he said seriously, red eyes narrowed, “This place is getting bigger, which is great, but if you keep trying to run it single handedly, pretty soon you’ll be getting no sleep at all and you’ll die and we’ll have to bury you here.” 

Cad frowned, setting their mugs on the counter above the ‘Collect Here’ sign, “This isn’t where I want to be buried…”

“Then hire an assistant!” Molly threw his hands in the air, making his bangles and bracelets clatter, “Like I’ve been telling you over and over and I know Beau and Jester and Yasha have been telling you too!”

“I don’t need an assistant,” Cad’s ears dropped and he folded his skinny arms defensively across his chest, “You have all told me and I’ve told you all the same thing.” 

Molly rolled his eyes with a noise of frustration but Caleb piped up instead, voice quiet and soft, like every word was carefully chosen before he said it, “We are just worried about you, Caduceus.” 

Cad’s shoulders fell, some of the tension leaving them, “I know.” 

And the worst thing was, he couldn’t say their worry was unfounded. It was getting difficult, as his cafe became more and more popular, particularly with the students from the Academy nearby, particularly non humans who found their tastes weren’t catered to elsewhere in the city. There were new faces every day, new people to talk to and new stories to learn, though of course there would always be that knot of colourful students who had piled into the booth on that first day and showed Caduceus how to have friends. 

Whereas before he’d have fiddled with his machines and idly tweaking recipes to fill the hours, there were now some days where he didn’t even sit down until the sign on the door had been turned over. Fixing drinks behind the counter, taking food orders and running back and forth between the kitchen and the tables, trying desperately not to knock anything over and keeping track of what went where with an elaborate system of scrawled notes that would be incomprehensible to anyone but him. Loading dirty dishes into the washer, bussing tables, watering plants and rotating them around so the ones that needed shade got shade and the ones that needed sun got sun, talking to the ones that were lonely and scolding the ones that had been greedy. Prep for the dishes, cutting vegetables when he inevitably didn’t make enough in the hours before opening, keeping track of when to take the fresh pastries out and when to turn the things under the grill and when he could spare a second to run and get a band aid to put on his burns or cuts. 

It all needed to be done. And yes, sometimes it took so much time that he didn’t get back to his apartment before it was technically tomorrow.

“You guys are sweet to worry,” he conceded, palms flat on the counter, fingers stroking all the nicks and scratches in the old wood, sanded down smooth, it always made him feel better, “But it’s just...adjustment. Pretty soon I’ll get used to it or it’ll level off and things will be fine again. I’ll get a handle on it.” 

He was met by two disbelieving gazes, Molly’s open and challenging, Caleb’s mixed with worry. 

Cad felt a bitterness rise in his throat, the need to snap and pout and insist that he  _ could _ do it, though stares like that weren’t helping, no matter how many people thought he should spend the rest of his life alone in a graveyard, keeping it nice and clean for whenever his family decided to come home and pat him on the head for being such a good boy. 

But he stopped himself, leaning back and inhaling deeply, the way he’d learned to do. He thought he’d left thoughts like that behind…

Either way, Molly and Caleb didn’t deserve those words. He knew their concern came from a good place. 

That was part of having friends, he’d learned. They would say things you didn't agree with because they were worried about you. The big difference between them and your family was you weren’t obliged to do as they said. 

You could just appreciate the fact that they cared. 

“Things will fall into place,” Cad said with confidence, clearing the tiredness from his voice and making himself stand up straight with bright eyes, “They will. I’ve gotten this far.” 

Molly looked like he wanted to argue more but Caleb squeezed the crook of his arm and spoke first, “We know, Caduceus. And you know we’re here if you need help.”

Cad nodded slowly, mollified and already ashamed for his own thoughts, “Thank you. Enjoy your drinks.”

Caleb gave him a small smile behind his beard. Caduceus often got the sensation that he understood him most, out of all their ramshackle little group. Molly didn’t seem as pleased but he relented, as he always did when his boyfriend asked anything of him. The two of them retreated to the table they always took when they were on one of their post-Caleb’s-classes dates and Cad turned back to his work. 

He already had more customers waiting. 

It seemed simultaneously like no time at all and an eternity before the windows were letting in the burnt orange of the sunset and Cad could turn the sign over. 

As he turned to the empty cafe, he was already making a list of jobs in his head. Take in the dishes still sat hastily piled on the tables, wipe them down, wash the crockery all through in the kitchen, sweep the floor, mop, get the ingredients ready for tomorrow…

Cad sighed and hung up his cooking apron behind the counter and pulled out his cleaning one instead, trying to click his neck and back and win himself a few more hours before they became unusable. Tomorrow, he told himself firmly as he went to change the music to something more suited to his tastes, he’d be able to tell his friends that he was home and in bed by eleven. 

He found a song he liked with far too many panpipes to be suitable for his customers and tucked his long braid into the back of his shirt to keep it out of the way. The list in his mind was still growing so he’d need to make a start soon. 

First, he let himself have a sit down on the few tables surrounded by sagging, comfortable sofas. Just for a few minutes, just to reset the deep, throbbing ache in his ankles. Then he’d be up, get everything done and be home in time to do some sewing. Things falling into place, just like he’d promised. 

The next thing Caduceus was aware of was his eyes opening to the sound of cars blasting horns outside and harsh morning sun hitting him right in the face. He winced, curling himself up like a woodlouse that just had it’s log pulled out from above it, though he found himself tipping too far over and hitting his head with a thunk on the arm of the sofa. Groaning, he wrapped his arms over his head, ninety per cent of his thoughts bubbling up in frantic panic at just how much stuff was now undone for the start of the day and how he had no time to do it at all. 

The remaining ten percent was in some state of mania induced calm, humming that at least he could confidently tell Molly he’d been asleep way before eleven. Even if he hadn’t been in bed. 

Before the panic could swallow him completely, one of the strings of ivy he’d allowed to grow through a specially made net across the ceiling stretched out it’s longest frond, just above his head, and tickled his nose pointedly. 

“Yeah…” Cad groaned to the plant, knowing very well who was sending him this particular message. Someone he really did need to listen to, “I get the idea.”

The day after next, all of his friends found themselves at their usual table, the biggest in the place, an oaken monstrosity backed by benches rather than chairs that Cad had rescued from a garage sale and revarnished. It was a little rare to see absolutely all of them together, with everything going on in their lives but every so often things would align just right. Beau and Caleb would have an afternoon off their classes, Molly and Yasha would be able to duck out of work early if there was a show that evening, Veth would leave her husband in charge of the lab and Jester would just float in on her usual cloud of bustle and low level chaos from doing whatever she’d been doing. They’d all sit and that corner of the cafe would be filled with laughter and loud conversation, a lot of it the well intended insults of bone deep friendship. 

Often Cad would wish he could be over with them. He’d go and say hello, of course, but there would always be things that needed doing, things that would keep him from sitting down and really feeling part of them. 

But not today. Today, as soon as they all gravitated together, Caduceus cleared the last of his customers still waiting, saw them off with whatever they needed and one of his broad smiles, then slipped out from behind the counter and sank into the chair they always left open for him, even if he was too busy to occupy it. 

All of their eyes turned to him, surprised and happy and a little confused. Before any of them could open their mouths, he sighed and looked down at his hands. 

“I need an assistant. Do you guys know anyone?”

There were a lot of relieved exhalations, Molly rolling his eyes and Caleb nudging him with an elbow, Jester’s face brightening as she gasped and slapped the table repeatedly in excitement.

“Oh! Oh! We do! We know someone who’d be  _ perfect!” _

Beau caught on, she had a knack for interpreting her girlfriend’s bursts of energy, “Ahhh...you know what, I think he would be ideal actually.”

“Who?” Caduceus was already starting to fidget, fingers drumming. 

“A friend of ours,” Beau stirred her ice coffee, “He is...or was, I guess, a sailor. But his contract’s up and he’s looking to spend a little time on dry land. Needs a way to pay the rent until he can get a thingy on another ship.”

“Berth,” Caleb piped up from where he was eating a beetroot brownie while pulling it apart into crumbs, “It’s a berth on a ship.” 

“Yeah,” Beau waved her fingers in his direction, “One of those.” 

Cad nodded slowly. If he was a friend of his friends, surely it wouldn’t be so bad. That must be someone he could trust to water the plants and man the counter and look after the place he’d built from the ground up and represented his first chance at real freedom. 

He took a deep breath, the drumming getting worse, “What’s his name? Maybe we can talk...I mean, maybe a trial period or...or something...”

Jester already had her phone out, fingers tapping energetically on the keys, grinning to herself and talking animatedly about how great this all was. Beau smiled fondly at her and turned to answer. 

“Your new assistant is called Fjord.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord's first day at work doesn't go as Caduceus had hoped

Anyone who came into the Blooming Grove cafe and smelled the unmistakable scent of a freshly baked cherry and strawberry pie would probably think that was nothing but a positive. That the busy chef must have been in a particularly good mood, to fill the small space with such a fresh, sugary and all round lovely scent. 

Beau knew better however. 

She hadn’t puzzled out the reason why but she knew that cherry and strawberry pie was something Caduceus only made when he was stressed out. She’d smelled it a lot during his shaky first few months, when no one was really sure if the cafe had a future, before people realised the special kind of magic Caduceus imbibed it with that made people feel so at home when they were inside it’s walls. She also smelled it whenever Cad came into work holding a letter, always the same paper, always the same handwriting though she could never make out any words. 

And she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a snoop. She just didn’t miss much.

Though she was pretty sure it had something to do with the very large family Cad would talk about often but whom she never saw visiting or calling or anything. Just those letters, one every few months, that would send Cad into a stress baking haze churning out pies but he’d keep it in his apron pocket like he was scared to let it out of his sight. 

But today there was no mystery to why there was suddenly a slice of thick, red oozing delightfulness being set in front of her, dusted with sugar with fruit like shiny garnets. It was because of Fjord.

Beau smirked and dug in with her fork, watching Cad zip back and forth across the cafe like an anxious bee. It was just him and her in the cafe right now, it didn’t open for another two hours. Lucky she woke up so early to do her tai chi in the park with her girl. Well, one of her girls. Getting Jester out of bed before ten was a triumph, Yasha was much easier to coerce. 

“If you clean up before he gets here, your new assistant ain't going to have anything to do,” she pointed out, around a mouthful of fruit and sugar. 

Caduceus jumped guiltily, “I’m just...just doing odds and ends. I want to be able to show him around.”

Beau wasn’t sure how true that was. Everything about Cad except his words showed how unsettled he still was with the idea of being a two person team. 

She rolled her eyes and jabbed her fork at him for emphasis, “Look, we know this place is your baby. We know what it means to you. So we absolutely would not have suggested Fjord if he wasn’t going to be perfect for the job! He’s obsessed with being competent, he’s chill with taking orders, he’s a people person, annoyingly organised, fuck this pie is really good, did you do something new?”

“Touch of balsamic vinegar,” Cad said absently, scratching at the little pink wisps of a beard that grew in when he didn’t trim it, “I’m not saying I don’t...he’s your friend so I want him to be my friend too, I’ve got every faith he’s a good guy but…”

“But you’re nervous,” Beau picks the words up for him, “And that’s fine. But you’re going to give this a shot, get used to it, see that it’s a great idea and everything will be fine. Seriously, I think you and Fjord will really get along.”

Cad’s ears flattened against his head and his eyes were big and doubtful, “I’m not so easy to get along with…”

Beau frowned at that, about to protest, when the bell above the door rang out, the door pushing back almost shyly, like it was scared into interrupt. And then there was Fjord, looking slightly more sunburnt and grizzled than he had the last time Beau saw him, dressed in the same ratty hoodie he used to have back in high school. His hair was in the same style, still short and shaved underneath, though part of it had turned white and he’d clearly not been cutting it while on that ship of his. Though he’d found the time to file his tusks down, they were barely visible. 

“Hey man!” Beau jumped down and rushed to give him a quick hug and sock him in the arm, “Look who washed up ashore…”

Fjord laughed, aiming a punch in return that she dodged easily, “Well you’ve not changed at all. Such a shame. And this must be Caduceus…” 

Beau turned to make her introductions and explain why the scruffy salt smelling individual was the hard worker she’d promised when Cad’s face stopped her. His ears were bolt upright now, jaw a little slack, a very obvious blush even under his grey fur. And his tail was whipping from side to side at a million miles per hour. 

Beau smirked, pleasantly surprised. This was starting to look like a two birds, one stone situation. 

“Yeah, it is. Fjord, meet Mister Caduceus Clay.”

_ You’re acting like a teenager.  _

Cad had told himself that half a hundred times in the last hour and it wasn’t doing any good. His heart was still going like a Madagascan sunset moth finding a grove of Omphalea plants, his face was ridiculously warm and he was going to have to tuck his tail into his dungarees if it didn’t stop or he was going to break a mug. 

Yes, Fjord was handsome. Almost ridiculously so. Now he’d acknowledged that, he could move on and refocus on the extreme anxiety he’d been nursing since yesterday that his cafe was going to collapse and he’d broken all his promises to himself and he’d have to go back home with his tail between his legs. That, at least, had been productive. 

“Okay, so this is where I keep all the flours,” he continued, showing the half orc around the kitchen, “I, um...I haven’t labelled any of them because I just had them memorised, I’ll fix that…and I’ll have to write down the recipes they go with too, I just memorised those as well…”

Fjord seemed a little alarmed, “Um...yeah, that would help, I think.”

“Have you ever baked before?” Cad asked, leaning against the stainless steel surface, nicked and scaped by years of use. 

Fjord sucked on his lower lip, “Well, I know how to make ship rations taste semi okay? But I don’t think that counts as baking.” 

Cad had to chuckle, “No but it does sound like a useful life skill. I’m kind of aiming for a higher caliber than ships rations around here.” 

“I’ll say, that pie Beau was eating looked to die for.” 

Cad felt his ears pick up, “Oh would you like some? I made, um...five this morning. No reason, I just felt like it.”

He was already moving before Fjord could answer, putting a slice on a nice plate, plenty of cream. His new assistant did look distinctly skinny, like he hadn’t been eating properly. They’d need to sort that out. 

Fjord seemed bemused at the sudden appearance of a dessert, smiling crookedly, “Thanks! Looks really good.”

“So maybe I’ll focus on the food prep for a little while and you can handle the front of house until you get more comfortable in the kitchen,” Cad tried not to look like he was hovering, waiting eagerly for Fjord’s reaction to his food. 

He wasn’t disappointed. Fjord’s eyes widened and he grinned, showing a pair of filed tusks Cad hadn’t noticed before. 

“Wow! This is amazing!” he had the most lovely accent, from somewhere in the South, twanging and drawling in places, wandering like a hard to follow path, “I must say, I’ve never eaten anything as nice as that!” 

_ You’re acting like a smitten teenager, stop it. Stop  _ blushing!

“I don’t know about that,” he cleared his throat, tangling his hands in the strings of his apron, “But you’re very kind to say so.”

“I think I’m gonna like working here,” Fjords’ grin was lopsided and full of cheek, just as a dashing pirate’s would be. Then suddenly it faltered, like a curtain had ruffled in the breeze and revealed something completely different, scenery turning out to be nothing but a backdrop on a stage, “I mean, if you’re going to hire me.”

Cad found himself smiling, something stirring in his chest, something separate to the silly crush that had landed so suddenly in his lap, “Any friend of the Nein is my friend too. And I think I’d quite like to work with a friend.” 

Fjord tilted his head to one side, looking delighted, “Y’know, that sounds mighty fine to me too.” 

Cad’s fur puffed up around his neck, like it did when he was happy. Or startled. 

“Yes! Okay, I’ll take you through the plant care schedule. That’s probably the most important thing.”

Fjord looked like he didn’t understand, eyes drifting over all of the greenery in the place. Even in the kitchen there were succulents in the window, the ivy running through the ceiling and the myriad of fresh vegetables and herbs in the greenhouse out the back door that Cad had managed to cram in their tiny courtyard (with a little magic assistance). 

“Plant care? Don’t you just...water them?”

Cad started at him for a heartbeat then burst out laughing, Fjord’s expression only getting more confused. 

He was going to enjoy it. But it was going to be hard work. 

They were halfway through their first day as a two man operation and things were going rather well, as Cad was sternly telling whatever flickers of anxiety still flitted in his chest. 

He was in the kitchen, gloves of flour and water pasted up to his elbows, rolling out rough into podgy rectangles. His ears flickered and tail swayed in time with the music, but his ears were listening to something else. Fjord’s voice, still a little jarring to hear when he wasn’t used to it, out at the counter, taking orders and calling them out. He flirted shamelessly, he charmed, he joked and laughed. Beau had been right, he was a people person. Cad had no doubt the tip jar would be bursting at the seams when he next checked it. 

“Hey, Caddy!” 

Cad turned from his dough to see Fjord in the doorway. His spare apron was clearly too big for the half orc, nearly touching the floor, but he hadn’t had time to make one for him. Tomorrow, he’d do it, now he knew his size. 

Even so, with a cloth poking out from the pocket and a pad of paper in his hand and a little pencil behind his ear, Fjord almost looked like he belonged. 

“This nice lady’s asking for chamomile and apple tea,” he called over the chatter from the customers beyond, “Whereabouts would that be?”

Cad gave an apologetic smile. Another thing that was apparently unlabelled were the nearly hundreds of tea tins that sat in haphazard rows, making the place look like an apothecary. Something else he needed to do. And maybe he’d actually have the time to now.

“Third shelf down, fourth tin from the left,” Cad closed his eyes to picture it, just to make sure he got it right. Some of the things in those tins were more...experimental blends. He couldn’t imagine them going down very well. 

“Gotcha,” Fjord flashed him that grin again, “Thanks Captain.”

“I told you, you don’t have to call me that,” Cad called after him, laughing. 

_ You really, really need to stop. _

But the strange thing was, the voice was getting quieter every time. Part of Cad was wondering why he had to stop at all. Wasn’t this part of the reason he’d left the grove- the actual grove? He’d wanted freedom, to see how it felt to be Caduceus rather than just a Clay. He’d wanted some control over his own life and choices. 

Maybe there were some choices he hadn’t even known he’d get. Possibilities he hadn’t considered. 

Now Cad was smiling as he rolled out his squares of focaccia, ready to sprinkle with cracked pepper and salt and herbs. He’d make an extra for Fjord to take home, maybe he’d like that. Suddenly he wanted to know everything about him, his tastes and likes and dislikes, what he did in his spare time, what he looked like just out of bed. 

He was definitely acting like a smitten teenager in the spring. But he didn’t think that was such a bad thing now. 

The rest of the day went alright. There were bumps in the road, of course. A tray of croissants got burned when Fjord lost track of himself bussing tables but he was incredibly apologetic and offered to remake them. Not that he had the first clue how to shape them. But maybe Cad could show him? 

But it had been an incredibly busy day of rare sunshine and clear skies and Cad didn’t feel like he was running on empty at the end of it. That was certainly a success of some sort. 

Members of the Nein had been coming in ones and twos all day to yell in delight at the sight of Fjord, home again. It was nice to see, a missing piece coming back to where it was supposed to be, fitting in like it had never been away. It sat a little melancholic in Cad’s chest, for a reason he was very aware of but didn’t want to think about so he’d pretend he didn’t know. But then he’d get swept up in it, Jester or Molly or Veth bringing him over to share in the happiness and he would feel so much better. 

Those had been bright spots in the constant tide of conversation that flowed through the Grove. And now Caduceus was wiping down the surfaces in the kitchen, Fjord out front handling the last of the customers, mostly people swinging by to pick up something for their dinners. The light was heady and orange again, all the light and none of the warmth as the end of the day brought cooler breezes than before, chasing away the lingering heat. 

And Cad’s ears picked up again as the conversation changed, as Fjord’s voice changed from the customer service voice he’d easily slipped on that morning. And Cad followed eagerly, only realising when he got to the doorway of the kitchen that there were no members of the Nein left to come see Fjord. 

Instead there was an elven woman behind the counter, immediately stunning in appearance with her fountain of red curls, impressive even with them tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. Standing there she seemed so sure, effortless, her posture somehow arrogant and challenging. She was dressed in sea colours, a long scarf wound once round her neck and loosely draped over her shoulders like a snake and her hat would have been ridiculous on anyone else who didn’t wear it with such simple confidence. 

Cad’s ears picked up at their continued conversation, Fjord speaking. From behind, he seemed tense, like something had set him on guard. 

‘You don’t have to be a jerk, Avantika,” Fjord was saying, “I actually had a really good day. I think I like working here.”

“Well,” the elf’s voice was liquid gold, her accent very different from Fjord’s, “It’ll do. We’ll get you back on the waves soon, dear. No need to convince yourself.”

“I’m not…” Fjord’s voice hardened but then he seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, letting go, “I’m going to close up then I’ll be back at your place. Thanks again for...for letting me stay.” 

“Pleasure’s all mine, dear,” the woman seemed to always have other words lurking behind the one’s she spoke, “Don’t be too late. I’m not in the mood to wait up.” 

“Right,” his reply was short and clipped, still in the tone of not wanting a fight. 

And then he leaned forward, over the counter, and kissed her. Not a long kiss and Fjord’s shoulders stayed tense but there it was. And Cad fled back into the kitchen. 

“Remember, don’t be late,” he heard her reply and the click of boots on the wooden bloor, the bell ringing out her departure. 

Fjord came in a little while later, apparently not noticing that Cad had been wiping down the same four workbenches for nearly fifty minutes. 

“Okay, that’s eight,” he said brightly, like the exchange had never happened, “Gonna teach me how to clear up?” 

Cad looked up, his smile thin and tired, “You know, I think I’ve filled your head with enough today. We can cover that tomorrow, why don’t you head out early. I can take care of things here.”

Fjord paused, looking a little dismayed, “I mean...if you’re sure? I really don’t mind.”

Cad cut across his gentle protest before he could talk himself into staying, “It’s only your first day. I’m not looking to scare you off already. Go on, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Fjord blinked, nodding slowly, “Right. Okay...um, thanks, Cad.” 

Cad gave a nod and a non committal wave, turning back to his work.

“I really mean it,” Fjord unwound the ties of his apron, tied in the front just the way Cad had shown him, “I had a great day today and I learned a lot. Thank you.”

Cad made himself look up, really look at Fjord, standing in his kitchen doorway, flour on his sleeves and hair pushed back awkwardly with a bandanna. And he smiled, softer this time. 

“You’re welcome, Fjord. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Looking happier, Fjord grabbed the bag he’d come in with and gave him a wave, heading out. And Cad still watched, still smiled. And he felt like an idiot. 

_ I told you so.  _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caduceus learns a little more about Fjord

Caduceus loved it when little kids would come into the Blooming Grove. It didn’t happen all that often, most of his customers were students from the academy or the nearby art school, coming in talking about their projects or dissertations, magic runes scrawled up their arms in biro and paint under their fingernails. But every so often, usually on sunny afternoons, parents would come in with strollers or tiny, pudgy hands held securely in their own, coming from the park or the fountain or the markets. The little ones would soon find themselves thoroughly spoiled, pressed with free cookies and cakes to go with their juice, the tall, nice man behind the counter always eager to listen to their nonsense and coo over whatever treasures they clutched. He kept a box of toys over in the corner for them to play with, picture books to read and there was always a napkin within reach when one was needed. 

There were some skills you couldn’t shake, even if your siblings were miles away. 

He was just helping a little drow toddler clean off some cookie crumbs before his mothers could notice when there was a yelp from behind the counter, accompanied by a loud hissing like some immense dragon. 

“Caddy! Help! Emergency, Captain!” 

“You don’t have to call me that!” Cad gave the little boy a pat on the head and went running over. 

Fjord was being enveloped in bursts of steam that smelled like burnt coffee, belching from the ancient coffee brewer, coughing and waving his arms in an attempt to stave them off, “I told you, Caddy. Helga hates me.”

“She does not hate you,” Cad insisted, wading in and turning dials and pushing levers back up, slapping his palm against the sides in a particular rhythm. 

Eventually it worked, the steam abating and the guttural hissing stuttering into silence. There was a final worrying rattle and a small tide of black, steaming, bitter sludge plopped from the dispenser into the waiting cup.

“Ew,” Cad’s ears flattened and his nose wrinkled, “Okay, maybe Helga does hate you. What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Fjord sounded indignant but clearly, like Cad, he was barely holding in laughter, “I tried to follow your instructions but I couldn’t remember them and I couldn’t find her manual…”

“She doesn’t have a manual, I bought her at a flea market,” Cad shook his head, slapping the immense bronze machine a few more times before nodding in a satisfied manner, “That should do it. What was the order?”

“Cinnamon coffee,” Fjord scratched at his jaw, still giving Helga a scandalised look. 

“Right,” Cad moved to grab the right jars from the small, mismatched army of them that cluttered the bench, “Did you put the cinnamon in with the beans or did you add them separately?”

Fjord paused, eyes widening and jaw slackening in realisation, “Ah. The wrong one.” 

Cad chuckled, nudging him lightly with a bony elbow, “Don’t worry. You’ll get it next time.”

For some reason, that seemed to make Fjord shrink a little, like he’d been expecting another step but his foot had found thin air instead. But only for a moment, then he was smiling again. 

“Well, it’s my mess so I’m definitely cleaning Helga tonight.”

Cad let him have that, waving him back to work his usual magic with the customers so he could finish the drink. It had been a few months since he’d started working here and Fjord was clearly strongest when he was interacting with people, a relief seeing as conversation had never been Caduceus’ strong suit which he supposed came of growing up in the middle of the forest with only six other family members, talking to plants more than people. 

In fact, Cad had learned a lot about Fjord, seeing him nearly every day, working elbow to elbow with him. He hummed while he worked. He didn’t like huge bits of onion in his food but if it was cut up small, he’d never notice. He’d gone to high school with Beau and Jester and become friends with Molly and Caleb and Veth through them. He’d been a sailor since he left school, speaking about the waves the same way Caduceus spoke about the forest. He always had a battered paperback in his bag, bought from a thrift store, even if there’d be no time in the day to read it. He woke up early and stayed up late, living on an amount of sleep that would have Cad wilting like a tulip in the heat. And he really needed a haircut but seemed in no hurry to get one. 

Cad found himself filing away every new thing he learned, despite telling himself his crush had been a brief thing, just something silly his brain had spat up in amongst all the stress and change. Fjord was handsome, of course, but he was also becoming his friend on top of his employee which was way more important. He wasn’t going to put him in an awkward position by blushing like a teenager every time he opened his mouth. It wouldn’t be fair to him. 

And besides, there was Avantika. 

She was rarely in the cafe itself, which Caduceus couldn’t help but be grateful for, as selfish as he felt over it. Even so, her presence was felt almost every day, in the way Fjord would come in muttering under his breath, agitated and red faced, still reliving an argument he’d left behind. Or in the way he’d get calls sometimes that he would get anxious about taking, dropping whatever he was doing in the cafe to answer them coming back apologetic and shamefaced, with a tension in him that hadn’t been there before. Or the way clear up would run late- usually because the two of them were talking and laughing or Fjord was showing him a new song on the radio- and he’d sigh resignedly and head out for the bus stop rather than getting a lift from her. He never said anything directly about it but the pieces weren’t hard to put together. Fjord knew Cad would offer to drive him home and he also knew he wouldn’t be able to say no. And there would be something unacceptable about that, some rule broken by that action that he didn’t understand. 

There seemed to be a lot of rules in Fjord’s...whatever he had with Avantika. One of them seemed to not be speaking about her at all, Cad had to base everything on what Fjord said with his muscles. He’d always been able to read that language better than anything, realising what people were trying not to say more than what they were actually saying. And he had learned shortly after that that people didn’t like it when you would state what it was out loud. He’d been working on that since coming to the city. 

But no matter how many times he told himself it was none of his business one way or the other, that he needed to keep his broad, flat nose out of his new friend’s affairs, Caduceus did care. He did.

Fortunately, the rest of the Nein also cared and seemed determined to talk to him about it. 

Beau and Caleb were in the cafe at the moment, as Caduceus tried to soothe Helga and get her back in working order by thumping his fist very carefully around her casing. They tended not to sit down when it was just the two of them, usually just on a pit stop in between class and a library session. They took different classes, of course, but they studied together which Cad found very strange, as they seemed to constantly bicker whenever they were within five meters of each other. Maybe they really didn’t know anyone else even remotely studious. Their significant others certainly wouldn’t qualify. 

Fjord was taking orders, efficiently and smoothly, putting them together with barely a pause. He’d really been getting good at this, even in such a short space of time. Cad could see why he’d been so good on ships. Any task he was given, he threw himself into it fully until he’d mastered it and could move through it confidently. Cad barely ever had to show him something twice. 

Thinking that he had this in hand- it was still an hour away from lunchtime, they were still in the ebb rather than the rush- Cad slipped over to Caleb and Beau, where they were leaning against the tall stools up against the counter, probably already arguing about something complicated to do with magic. Cad didn’t understand what there was for them to learn about magic for so many years. You just thought about it, asked nicely and it happened? 

“Morning,” he rumbled congenially, setting their cups down in front of them. They came so often, he’d just started taking their own travel cups and filling them. Beau’s was scuffed and scratched from being shoved deep into her backpack with all her stuff, the logo of the Cobalt Soul still just about visible, clearly a freebie from her orientation nearly three years ago. Caleb’s was covered in cartoon kitty paw prints. Both were filled with black, incredibly strong study session grade coffee brew. Cad refused to sell them more than three cups a day, five cups a day during finals week. 

“Hey, Cad,” Beau was bouncing on the balls of her feet, like she was shaking out all of her energy before having to stay still for an extended period of time.

“Good morning Caduceus,” Caleb had eyes only for his coffee, making grabby hands towards it before Cad had even passed it over. 

“Only three, remember,” the firbolg warned him, not liking the look on his face, “I am keeping track.”

“I know,” Caleb said meekly, trying to look restrained and a little less like an addict, just taking one small sip before lowering the cup, as if to prove he could. 

“Saw Fjord nearly send your coffee machine up in smoke,” Beau leaned a bandaged elbow on the counter, tipping her cup in the direction of the half orc, now chatting companionably with an elderly dragonborn woman as he put her granola bowl together. 

“Easy mistake to make and no harm done,” Cad smiled in the same direction, just to himself, “He’s actually doing brilliantly. Starting to forget how I managed without him.”

Cad’s gaze was elsewhere, being much less subtle than he thought, so he missed the glance exchanged between Beau and Caleb. 

“So, uh…” Beau leaned forward, bringing Cad’s eyes back her way, “You and Fjord, you get on well, huh?”

Cad was frowning over that, confused as to why she’d ask that when it was obvious, when they were both interrupted by a chime from Fjord’s apron pocket. The apron Cad had made him, done exactly to match his height, with waves stitched along the hem. He’d been delighted with it. 

It went just as it always did. Fjord seemed to shrink in on himself a little, jaw tensing, teeth closing on his lower lip. He gave the woman her change quickly, eyes darting to Cad, gesturing apologetically and pointing at his pocket questioningly. Cad gave him a wave, there was no one else at the counter anyway. 

Now Beau’s face was dark as thunder and even Caleb had a disapproving set to his jaw, like he’d swallowed something bitter other than his coffee. 

“How many times a day does he get calls like that?” he asked, watching Fjord’s back disappear around the corner to the back room. 

Cad shrugged, “A few. More some days than others. I’m not counting.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. He was  _ trying  _ not to count. 

Beau muttered something into her cup that sounded unkind. When Caleb gave her a look she threw her hands in the air, nearly sloshing coffee on the wooden floor, “What? You know I’m right! She’s checking up on him like he’s a naughty kid!” 

“I am aware,” Caleb sniffed, “And I don’t like it any more than you do. But we said we weren’t going to say that kind of stuff when he’s around.”

“Oh come on, he can’t hear us,” Beau rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. 

Cad looked between the two of them anxiously, already feeling guilty but too curious to go and do something else, “So...you guys know about his girlfriend? Avantika?”

“Girlfriend is a strong word,” Caleb allowed, while Beau snorted derisively in the background, “More like...force of mutual destruction. Part time nemesis. Live in life ruiner.” 

Caduceus wrinkled his nose, “Oh…”

“They’ve been like this since high school,” Beau’s lip curled, “They both got deep into this really dodgy patron, you know, how most people do at that age? Neither of them had a great childhood and it kind of just happens that way. Fjord started to have second thoughts once he became friends with us but she kept dragging him down into it. We all thought they were done when Fjord signed up with the Tide’s Breath, the ship he worked on? But now he’s home and they’ve just fallen right back into making each other miserable and making our lives shitty into the bargain!” 

“That doesn’t sound...healthy…” Cad said slowly, taking his tail in his hands and wringing it anxiously. 

“It’s not!” Beau slapped Caleb’s arm, “See! Cad gets it!”

“Ow! I’m on your side!” Caleb protested, rubbing his arm, “We all are!”

“You’re ridiculous, I barely touched you.” 

Cad sucked in a breath, “People sometimes do things that don’t make sense because they don’t see that it’s hurting them. Or because something else is hurting them more and listening to someone else is easier. Even if what they’re telling you is bad.”

That got him an eerily twin set of concerned looks. Cad realised that maybe that should have been something he kept to himself, one of those things that made conversations awkward. 

“We sort of get why he’s doing it,” Beau eventually said, slowly, “I mean, we’re basically Team Gone Through Bad Shit. Doesn’t mean we like it.” 

“No one does,” Cad said quietly, eyes casting down to his tail, still clutched tight in his long fingers, “But saving people from themselves is difficult.” 

“Hence why they’re still together,” Caleb murmured, “We know we can’t just go telling Fjord all of this without upsetting him and making things worse.” At that, he gave Beau a very significant look. She gave him the finger in return. 

When Caleb ignored it, she sighed and hopped down from the stool, “We need to head out. Just...help us keep an eye on him?” 

Cad glanced over. Fjord was back behind the counter, tapping his fingers restlessly on the wood, looking red faced and anxious. Clearly the conversation hadn’t been a pleasant one. Cad thought of all the times Fjord would look uncomfortable when he reassured him or instantly forgave an error or mistake. The way he’d get awkward about compliments, like he didn’t know how to hold them or where to put them. The way he needed to hold his overgrown hair back with a band but every day his tusks were freshly filed down, right to where it had to be painful, just so they wouldn’t be visible past his lip. 

He couldn’t have a crush on him, it wouldn’t be fair. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t care about him. Far too late for that. 

“Of course I will,” he said softly. 

Caduceus was starting to enjoy closing up more than any other part of the day. Everything slowed down, there seemed to be more space to breathe and the whole evening stretched out in front of them, feeling like forever. And it would suddenly be just him and Fjord in the quiet, able to choose their favourite songs on the speakers and talk across the freshly wiped down tables and sing and joke. 

It had started off tentative, back in the first few days. Neither of them were hugely eager to talk about the usual ice breaking questions like family, home, where they both were before now. Instead they’d talked in the present, about their interests. Cad had talked for hours about his rooftop beehive before realising he was rambling, except Fjord had still been listening intently, almost as if he didn’t care how much time had gone by. Fjord talked about how he was getting back into the battered old acoustic guitar he played, whatever book he was reading, whatever podcast he was listening to. 

But, as it often went, talk about small things became talk about big things without really meaning to. 

Tonight, Fjord was wiping down the tables and Cad was moving from plant to plant, watering contentedly. As he worked, the half orc was explaining some interesting historical magic experiments he’d been reading about in a book Caleb had lent him. 

“...I used to think that kind of stuff was so interesting when I was younger. How people know what they know now, how all these big ideas became fact, y’know? Used to have all these daydreams about being at the academy and seeing the places all this big thinking happened…”

Cad looked over his shoulder, interested, “You want to apply to the academy?”

And then suddenly Fjord was tense, awkward, ducking his eyes to focus on the already clean mosaic table top, acting like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“I mean, I used to. When I was younger. A lot younger.”

Cad felt the urge to back off, the sensation that they were suddenly standing on some kind of line. But he couldn’t help but feel letting it go would be breaking the promise he’d made to Beau. 

“You still could,” he said quietly, “They take students of all ages.”

Fjord still didn’t look up, “I, uh...I don’t think that’s the path for me anymore. I mean, when would I fit it in now? Not gonna be long before I’m back out on the ocean.” 

Cad frowned delicately. He had mentioned that a few times, the fact that this was temporary, a stop gap until he found hire on another ship. But there was always something so rehearsed about the way he said it. Like he was copying someone else’s words. 

“Paths can change,” Cad allowed after a pause, “But sometimes you can think that way but old loves come back, ones you thought you’d outgrown. And they’re stronger than ever.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience?” The attempt to change the subject was obvious but Cad let him have it. He wasn’t looking to make him uncomfortable. 

He smiled softly, fingers gently brushing the almost silky leaves of his yucca plant, “My whole family worships Melora, the Wildmother. Have you heard of her?”

“I don’t think so,” the bridge of his nose scrunched up adorably when he was thinking.

“Not many people have,” Cad reassured him, “She’s mostly for the quiet places, where nature’s grown over the scars in the earth. Places like where I grew up...she was practically another family member growing up, you could feel her everywhere. She’s soft and gentle and kind and there’s nothing she can’t heal.” 

Fjord’s expression softened, “She sounds nice.”

“She is,” Cad chuckled wryly, “And I was raised to be her cleric from the moment I was born.”

“Really?” Fjord’s eyebrows shot up and Caduceus could understand why, even as he cringed internally. He’d never mentioned having any kind of magic, he never used it around the cafe except in ways too small to notice. It was quite deliberate. Every time he reached for the well of power inside himself, the quiet place where he could smell damp moss and fresh grass and feel it under his feet no matter where he was, he’d feel a tug of homesickness. Even with the long conversations he’d had with the Wildmother, one sided conversations where he was answered by breezes and bird calls, even with his certainty that he had her support, his magic had a bitter taste to it these days.

“Really,” Cad murmured, hoping Fjord wouldn’t press the matter, “And there was a good few years where I resented the hell out of it.” 

“Oh,” Fjord’s eyes widened. 

Cad smiled coyly, “I had a full teenage tantrum. Pouting, breaking things, yelling. No one in my family  _ yells _ … I made a complete fool of myself. It was a week out from my cleric initiation and suddenly I was tired of having all of my decisions made for me and wanted the world to know it.”

“How old were you?” Fjord grinned.

“Thirty five. Just a kid.”

“Oh…so what happened?”

“One night, I got it in my head that I was going to run away,” Cad turned back to his plant, practically petting it, “I packed a bag, climbed out of my window in the middle of the night...I told myself I was never coming back, without so much as a goodbye.”

Fjord had abandoned his table entirely, looking at Caduceus with his full attention, “Really?”

“Yep,” the memory of his own stupidity still made the fur on his neck stand up, “And I would have done it, if I hadn’t taken a wrong turn. I’d lived in those woods all my life and somehow I took a wrong turn, tell me how that happens without divine intervention. But all of a sudden, I wasn’t on the path anymore. I was in this beautiful clearing, waterfall gently bubbling...the place I was meant to take my initiation in a few hours, the very thing I was supposed to be running away from. And it occured to me that I’d been feeling all of this anger and sadness and confusion, it had been tearing me up inside for longer than I’d even realised...and I’d never talked to anyone about it. I couldn’t tell my family, not when they’d had this image of me as their perfect, devoted son. So...maybe I could tell her.”

“And you did?” Fjord sounded a million miles away, Cad lost in his own memory.

“I did. I talked until my voice ran out, until the sun came up. I told her everything and afterwards I felt so...so clean. People had been telling me all my life to follow the Wildmother and I had, because they’d told me to. That night was the night I decided to follow her because  _ I chose to.  _ I took my oath then and there.” 

“Wow,” Fjord murmured, “I can’t imagine feeling that way about...anything, really.”

Cad was about to ask how come Fjord had his own patron then, before realising he’d have to explain how he knew that. And then realising he probably wouldn’t like the answer. 

Instead he smiled, “It’s always waiting for you, Fjord. For all of us.” 

That brought a laugh, the kind he only did when he wasn’t thinking because it would show his filed tusks, “That’s a nice idea, Caddy.”

He grinned back, moving to the next plant, caring for each of them as devotedly as he could manage, each one a growing, green prayer, “It is. Even nicer for being true...the Wildmother helped me realise I wasn’t happy at home, years after that night, when I was actually ready to make that decision. She brought me here, to this cafe and to the life I have now. She helped me not feel so lost. And there’s something out there that will help you feel the same, Fjord. Maybe it’s the academy. Maybe it’s your next ship.”

_ Maybe it’s here. _

The words were on his lips without thinking, desperate to be spoken, straining to tumble into the air between them. 

Caduceus swallowed them back. It wouldn’t be fair. And there was no guarantee that saying it would make it true. 

“Thanks, Caddy. For sharing that with me,” Fjord’s voice seemed different somehow, in a way he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe he was just tired. 

“You’re welcome… you know you can talk to me anytime, right? About whatever you want... doesn’t have to be work stuff or, um…I mean anything.” Cad winced at himself. How had he gone from being so articulate to tripping over his own feet when he wanted to ask a simple question? 

Fjord seemed on the verge of his usual tension when help was offered but then he seemed to shake it off, like rainwater, “Thanks. That means a lot, Caddy.” 

Cad resisted the urge to clap his hands. He’d done exactly as Beau asked and made Fjord smile into the bargain.

“Why don’t you clean out Helga? That might make her like you. I can finish up the plants and tables.” 

Fjord seemed grateful for the chance to move, like just accepting help had filled him with restless energy, “Oh, I’ll do that! She’s going to end up loving me, I swear.”

“I’m sure,” Cad chuckled quietly as he jumped up and headed for the counter. 

He’d make sure they were wrapped up in time for him to get a ride home. One personal leap a day was enough, he felt. 

Cad moved to the next plant, a terrarium full of mushrooms he’d taken from the grove, already softly starting to glow as the light dimmed. Just for a moment, he placed his palms on the smooth curve of the glass, the green luminescence filtering through the gaps between his fingers like he held a heart in his hands. 

And all he could smell was fresh grass, new fallen rain on green things. He felt his nerves alight with power he’d had inside himself since that promise he’d made. And it felt right.

Cad smiled, leaning close and whispering just in case, “I’m going to keep an eye on him...but maybe you could too?”

The mushrooms immediately grew brighter in his hands, far brighter than they should be for the time of day. 

Caduceus took that as a yes. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter and the next few will deal with Fjord coping with his own sexuality and internalised homophobia. Avoid if this is a trigger for you.
> 
> Caduceus and Fjord start coming closer, when something comes roaring up to pull them apart

“So...Caduceus, huh?”

Beau wasn’t very good at difficult conversations. She knew that. Whenever she had to have one, whether it was navigating her relationship with her girlfriends, letting Jester know when she needed some quiet time or getting Yasha to be more open about how she was feeling, the person she usually turned to was Fjord. He’d never say it himself but he was good at feelings talk, at least when he was out of his own head. Even when he’d been far away, the two of them had texted whenever he was docked, and he’d always been able to help her figure out what to say. Not that she could tell him that. He’d have cringed and gotten awkward about it and insisted he was really no good at ‘soft stuff’. 

And Beau would have felt that urge to slap the hell out of that Vandran guy. And Avantika. And everyone else who’d ever made Fjord feel like he was worthless if he wasn’t ‘strong’. But that would have taken a long time. 

But this time, she couldn’t ask Fjord what to say or how to make her smile look less like a grimace or how not to come off like a grumpy asshole. Because the person she wanted to have this tricky conversation with was Fjord himself. 

And so far it was going as well as she’d expected. 

Fjord gave her a puzzled look from across the counter, “Caduceus. Yeah, I know the fellah. Tall, furry, dresses like a college age stoner. I only see him every day but Sundays.”

“Damn, that is  _ exactly  _ how he dresses…” Beau muttered, looking across at where Cad himself was standing, seeing his drop crotch pants in an eye watering geometric print in a new light, “Anyway, I just mean...he’s nice, right?”

Fjord narrowed his eyes, “Uh, yeah. He is nice.”

“And you’ve been getting on really well?”

“I guess, yeah. We talk a lot, we’ve actually started texting. I don’t think he’s ever done it before but he seems like he’s getting the hang of it...I know he seems a little slow but he’s actually way smarter than people realise, he knows more about plants than, well, anyone I think and all this stuff he just remembers off the top of his head, his memory for some stuff just crazy. Last night when we were texting, he was describing how to make some real complicated stew thing and I know for a fact he didn’t have the recipe book because that's here and he wasn’t googling it because I don’t think he knows how to do that but he remembered everything about it…” he stopped, like he’d just realised how long he’d been talking and flushed, “Beau, when are you getting to your point?”

Beau cursed internally. The answer was she had no idea. But she had to try.

“Just sayin’... seems like you’ve got a bit of a...a thing going on with him. A connection.”

That had definitely been the wrong thing to say. Fjord’s shoulders immediately hunched, his jaw set in that stubborn, defensive way. The blush became a fire across his face, turning his green skin splotchy. He looked like a teenager caught spray painting a wall.

“What? He’s just a friend,” he said, more curt than he probably realised, “Like I said, I see him every day. I’m allowed to have friends, ain’t I?”

Beau held up her palms, getting the strong sensation that Fjord wasn’t talking to her anymore, not in his head anyway, “Sure, sure. Course.”

“You and Jess said I should work here, you wanted me to get to know him, that’s all I’m doing-”

“Right!” Beau raised her voice a little, frowning, “I know, Fjord, I know. Jeez, I was just asking…”

“Well maybe don’t next time,” he snapped, “He’s just a  _ friend... _ here’s your coffee.”

The last part was muttered a little resentfully as he pushed the biodegradable cup towards her more forcefully than he needed to, quickly turning on his heel and nearly fleeing into the kitchen, with a half caught comment about having work to do.

Beau groaned and slumped on her stool. She knew exactly what was going to happen now, Fjord would spend a day being cold and awkward around her then would snap right back to the way they’d been before, as if the botched conversation had never happened. That’s how it had gone every other time Beau had tried to steer him into talking about...well, anything even remotely adjacent to  _ that.  _

She’d tried before Caduceus was ever in the picture. She’d tried to bring it up around bonfires they’d set on the beach on weekends Fjord had stayed with her because the orphanage was crushing him, on the nights they’d sneak onto the school field when her own home became unbearable to be in and she needed to talk to someone who didn’t treat her like she was a mistake for being herself. She’d waited expectantly when she’d come out to him, at their usual booth in the cheap diner they both frequented, like there was a second half to the conversation in the wings. 

None had worked. How were you supposed to tell someone you saw something in them when they didn’t see it themselves? When other parts of them, parts that had been transplanted in against their will, would hate it and punish them for it?

As little as she liked it, Beau realised all she could do was sit back and hope against hope that something would grow in Fjord.

Well, she sighed as she jumped down and went to head to class, if anyone could make something grow in the harshest conditions it was Caduceus. 

It happened so slowly. 

It started with side glances, Fjord clearly noticing things he hadn’t before. Things like the tattoo at the base of Caduceus’ neck that was only visible when he wore his hair with his undercut exposed. Things like the swirl of smooth oak he wore through the hole in his ear. Things like the markings he shaved into the fur around his wrist on certain days, namely the week when the seasons were shifting, as spring became summer. They’d always been part of him, of course but now Fjord’s eye seemed drawn to them more than ever. 

And then it became questions. Not big questions but small ones that betrayed a much bigger curiosity. One day, when Fjord came in to find Cad meditating on the floor in the middle of the cafe, he politely tiptoed around him and left him to it. But he spent the morning clearly chewing over a question and finally, as the two of them sat and ate lunch in the kitchen, he burst out and asked if Cad thought about anything in particular when he did that or if he just let his mind wander. Cad had smiled and happily ran him through some meditation basics, breathing and thought exercises and such. Fjord had listened intently before quickly busying himself with his sandwich and mumbling something about it sounding interesting but not really for him. 

The next day, he’d asked Cad if talking to the plants as he did counted as talking to his goddess too. Then he’d asked if she had a particular special day or if she had a temple of some kind somewhere. Then he’d asked if the way Caduceus did his hair had something to do with her whole spiral thing, the way he usually did it in braided buns on either side of his head. 

Cad answered every question patiently, as if simply indulging his friend’s curiosity. After all, she was a lesser known deity in these parts, of course she’d seem interesting to someone who had grown up in a city. But each one lit a hope in his chest, like fireflies buzzing in his ribcage. 

And then it wasn’t a question, it was a realisation. 

“That’s a wave, isn’t it?”

Caduceus looked up from where he was lounging on one of the sofas, sewing a torn cushion back together, “Hm?”

Fjord was over in the corner, one of the carved talismans in his hand. There were several dotted around the store, looking just like indoor rockery amongst the plants or interesting art sculptures. But if someone knew what they were looking for, they’d see them everywhere. This one was a palm sized river rock, carved with the Wildmother’s spiral and painted in watercolours. His sister had made it for him before he’d left, pressing it into his palm as he’d been packing, when the rest of his family had already started keeping their distance. 

Clarabelle had always been a favourite of his. 

It seemed to fit perfectly in Fjord’s palm and he was studying it like he had no idea how it had gotten there, the watering can hanging limp and forgotten in his other hand. 

“The symbol,” he murmured, face creased in a gentle, curious frown, “It’s a wave, isn’t it?”

Cad leaned forward, setting his needle and thread to one side, lazily resting his chin on his knees, “It is. Melora’s of the sea as well as the forest. Where’s wilder than the sea, after all?”

“I...I didn’t know that,” Fjord’s voice was small and his eyes hadn’t lifted from the talisman. 

Cad nodded, “She guides the passage of ships and protects those who sail the waves, anywhere in the world. Particularly from storms.”

That snapped Fjord’s eyes up, as if one of the words Cad had spoken was a fishing line that he’d jerked, “Really?’

Cad tried to feel nothing at the sudden intensity in the half orc’s stare, “Yes. She’s all about protection and balance when people travel through wild places. Keeping things as they should be.”

Again, something about that tugged at Fjord. Enough to make him set down the watering can and come to sit on the sofa opposite Caduceus’, leaning forward on his knees. The quiet of the cafe after hours seemed to intensify, wrap around them as if they weren’t just the only two people in the building but the whole world. 

“You said she’s about healing,” his voice was raspy, like he was having to fight to keep some emotion out of it, “But what about...forgiving?”

Cad blinked slowly, ears twitching, “Forgiving?” 

Fjord lowered his voice, “Like if you’d...done something you weren’t proud of. Or thought something or...or you  _ were  _ something you weren’t proud of...or at least you thought you should be...would she still…” he seemed unable to keep going, like he was grasping for words that weren’t there. 

Cad took a moment to really look at him before he answered. It was like he was seeing him in a different light, the way the colour of some eyes could look completely different depending on where you stood. There was a fear in Fjord’s face he’d never seen before, a kind of raw and innocent fear that belonged to a child. A child who didn’t understand why he’d been hurt as badly as he had. Who’d spend his life trying to reason out that hurt, finding flaws in himself that weren’t there, just to justify it all. Because if it wasn’t there then the world was just plain cruel and that couldn’t be true. 

Cad was good at reading people, he was good at understanding faces and the feelings behind them. But he hadn’t seen this. And it broke his heart. 

“Fjord,” he eventually murmured, wanting so badly to reach across the table to him but knowing that would do more harm than good, “Nothing is unforgivable. Certainly nothing you’ve done. And some things...some things don’t even require forgiveness, no matter what other people have told you.”

Fjord swallowed hard, “And she...she’d think so too?”

“Without hesitation,” Cad answered immediately, never breaking his gaze. 

At that, something in Fjord seemed to recede, pull away. Something that didn’t have form or shape or colour so it was hard to say how it did it, but the sensation was unmistakable. A kind of...darkness had withdrawn ever so slightly. 

And he managed to nod. 

_ Thank you, thank you, thank you _ Cad chanted desperately in his head as he kept his face in a gentle smile and reached over to Fjord, putting his large hands over the half orc’s callused ones and closing his fingers over the talisman in. 

“Why don’t you keep that, Fjord?” he murmured, “I want you to have it.” 

Fjord opened his mouth to insist he couldn’t but Caduceus was already shaking his head, “It’s not a promise or anything, it’s just...a gift. It’s just a gift. From one friend to another.”

Fjord bit his lip, though the anxiety in his eyes was bleeding away, “I…”

Cad’s hands were still on Fjord’s, somehow he’d not taken them away yet, “Just use it as a reminder that...you’re good, Fjord. No matter what you’ve been told, you’re fundamentally good. And change is always possible.”

“Caduceus…” It was part question, part plea for help, part just saying his name because he wanted to hear it out loud. 

There was so much more he wanted to say in return, words beating in his mouth like a second heartbeat, straining for flight. Words that would chase that darkness away for good, make it flinch so he could catch it in his hands and show Fjord how small and twisted and wrong it really was, how he didn’t have to believe what it said ever again. How it had never been part of him but something he’d been forced to take. 

And then everything broke into a hundred pieces as a car horn blared outside, again and again like an angry heartbeat. Both of them jumped a mile, Cad’s ears flattening against his head and Fjord whipping around as if expecting a blow. 

“Oh…” he eventually said, when the shock had died down to just an unpleasant buzz in the nerves, “It’s Avantika…”

Sure enough, past the windows and the doodles of plants and mushrooms Jester had done for Cad in glass paints when he’d first opened, out on the darkened street was a car. The horn blared again, a shout into the previously calm twilight. 

“She never normally comes to get me this late,” Fjord looked lost, still childlike and terrified, “Why…I should go…”

There was a pause then, a pause that could have lasted a lifetime to the two men caught in it. A possibility bloomed between them, a road opening up in a held breath. And then a choice was silently made. Fjord stood up, a different man, broader shouldered and with a set jaw and a mask on his face he’d worn for so long. 

“I’m sorry, Cad,” this other man said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Right,” Cad murmured, still reeling, “Tomorrow.” 

He went to stand too but then he felt it, the talisman. Not in Fjord’s hands but his own, left there, abandoned like a broken promise.

And for a moment, the other man was gone as Fjord whispered, “I’m sorry, Cad,” and fled, taking any unspoken words with him out into the night. 

The door falling shut behind him sounded louder than it had any right to. 

For a long time Cad stayed sat down, looking at the talisman left in his hands, all strength to stand gone out of him. He heard the car door slamming shut outside, the tyres screeching against the road as it drove away but he didn’t look to see it happen. 

He didn’t understand. 

Caduceus was still yawning as he walked from where he parked to the front of the cafe. He hadn’t slept well in the night, for obvious reasons, and was feeling every minute of tossing and turning as he walked through a chilly dawn. 

The tiredness wasn’t helping him work out how he was going to approach Fjord today. He didn’t want things to be awkward, he didn’t want to lose a friend. But he couldn’t figure out how on earth he was supposed to keep that from happening after things had gone so disastrously wrong. Had he pushed him? Had he come off controlling? Had he seen a desire in Fjord that hadn’t really been there, that he’d only wanted to see?

Caduceus was used to being so sure of his decisions. Even when they’d been the rash, impulsive decisions of his youth, even when no one else seemed to follow his reasoning, at least he’d always been secure in his next step forward. Like the paths through the grove he’d walked so many times, he always knew where he was setting his feet. 

Now he couldn’t even be sure there was ground underneath him at all. And if he didn’t find it soon, he’d lose sight of Fjord completely. 

As he rounded the corner, out onto the quiet little street where his cafe stood, he realised with a sinking heart that he had no time left to figure it out. Because Fjord was already there, under the still glowing street lamp outside the door, hunched against the chill in that threadbare hoodie of his. 

Cad’s ears drooped and he prayed for wisdom as he crossed the space between them, trying to smile. 

“Morning, Fjord,” he called when there was still a few yards between them, “You’re early…”

The closer he got, the more his tiredness was replaced with a cold, heavy dread. Because Fjord looked fine. Far too fine. Like he was holding it that way quite deliberately because behind it all was something else. 

“Uh, yeah,” even his voice was measured, like an actor delivering lines, “I came in a little early because...because I need to talk to you about something.”

“Well,” Cad turned to unlock the door, “We can talk inside, it’s a little too chilly to-”

“No,” Fjord interrupted, “I think I need to say this now, Caduceus.” 

He stopped, the dread crystallising into a full on fear in his stomach, key freezing halfway in the lock, “...oh?”

“I’m leaving.”

And there it was. 

Fjord broke, unable to look at him anymore, eyes falling to the pavement between them, “Avantika bought a ship. Well...we bought a ship, really but...thats why she came to get me last night, to tell me. She got tired of waiting for another captain to take us on so...so I guess we’re just doing it ourselves. We won’t be setting out right away but I need to go help get everything ready so...tomorrow’s going to be my last day.” 

There was a second long pause, before the key turned in the lock with a sharp click. Cad stepped inside, still not having said a word, calmly slipping off his coat and putting on his apron, the only sign he’d heard being a tremble in his hands as he knotted it in the front. 

“Well, that’s a shame,” he finally said, voice quiet, “We can talk more about the logistics of that but I need to go and get the produce out for today. You can sort out the tables. I’ll be in the store room if you need me.”

Fjord’s eyes were up, looking shocked and confused, like he’d been waiting for an explosion that hadn’t come, “Sure...yeah, I can do that…”

“Right,” Cad stepped away into the back room and down the steps into the basement, walking quickly, keeping his head up and his jaw still just in case Fjord was still looking. 

It was only when the heavy door of the store room closed behind him, so he knew that he had a good ten minutes before anyone would get suspicious and enough distance that no one would hear, only then did he stop and sit down heavily on a wooden box. 

Only then did Caduceus allow himself to sob. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caduceus realises that life is too short to let bad feelings linger

There was precisely one phone in the entirety of the blooming grove. Well, one phone that wasn’t secret anyway; Caduceus had long suspected that Clara had managed to get her hands on one and was keeping it stuffed under her pillow. The phone that wasn’t a secret was just outside of the family’s sprawling, listing cottage, a little ways off into the woods though not too deep in where the light started to fade. It was an old phone box, placed where one had no earthly right to be, far too overgrown with branches and moss to still be functional, far too ancient to have any connection to the modern phone service. But still, it worked. 

And Caduceus knew if he called it, they would hear him and they would answer. 

He’d sunk so much of his time, his gold and himself into the cafe that his apartment was rather spare by comparison. It was a studio, so small he banged his elbows and head constantly, a little kitchenette opening out onto a living space dominated by plant life, a bedroom only big enough for a bed that would actually accomodate all of him, a shower that he could only get to aim as high as his shoulders so he had to duck. 

It often felt claustrophobic and Caduceus was feeling the full effects of it right now, sitting cross legged on his bed and trying to remember to breathe. One hand clutching his phone, the other hand stroking the crocheted comforter underneath him because it felt nice and his hands couldn’t sit still when he was anxious, they needed to be touching something, like he was expecting the whole world to tip suddenly and needed to hang on. 

He knew the number, of course he did. When he was little, it was the only one he’d ever had to know, not that he’d need it. When would he be anywhere but in the grove itself? He was the good boy, the devoted son, the promised one. He would always be in the heart of it, watching over it all and keeping it safe, telling himself he was happy in his work but all the while straining his ears to hear that phone ringing, or the front gate creaking, signalling his family’s return. Or, at least, some sign that he hadn’t been completely forgotten. 

That wasn’t fair. He had been happy in his task, tending the grove and the plants and animals that were it’s cells, never far from his god. It was just that he’d outgrown it. He’d changed. He’d done what everything in nature was supposed to do. 

And that was where the trouble had begun. 

Caduceus felt the full weight of that trouble press down on him as he held the phone in his hand and repeated the number again, over and over. Trouble he’d caused, trouble he’d cultivated and allowed to grow when he could have kept it inside himself. 

He didn’t want to face it. He felt small and cowardly but he just didn’t. Whatever mad impulse had brought him here, sat on his bed at midnight when he really should have been asleep, was starting to fade. 

But not enough. If there was anything he’d learned today, it was that time could slip through your fingers faster than you’d ever imagined. There was no time to indulge bad feelings and ignore hard decisions. 

Before he could flinch, he typed in the numbers and held the phone to his ear. 

The rings seemed to echo in his chest, buzzing through him until it was almost unbearable. He tried to count them and anchor himself but he couldn’t, it was like his skull was full of them, darting this way and that like angry, black flies. 

“Caduceus?”

Everything stopped. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to make the words come out at first, his throat closed up so sudden and so tight, but then they did. 

“Mama…”

“Oh Caduceus,” her voice was tight with emotion and sounded so tinny through the phone but it was her, her inherent calmness and power and confidence that had guided him through so much of his life, “My boy...I was so hoping you would call, every day I hoped…”

Cad felt his mouth twist in grief, “I’m sorry, Mama, I...I didn’t want to leave it the way I did…”

There had been no shouting, as he’d told Fjord, Clay’s didn’t yell or raise their voices. But there had been a cold and a distance that was just as devastating. And he’d had his fair share of blame for that. 

“Neither did I, Caduceus,” his mother said, voice softening, “But please, my boy, it’s okay. Just tell me you’re alright….”

“I am okay, Mama,” Cad didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, of course that would be her first concern, “I promise, I’m okay.”

She exhaled, like she’d been waiting to hear those words for a long time, “I’m sorry, of course we love your letters but it’s just so good to hear it in your voice.” 

Cad smiled, closing his eyes so he could picture her better. People thought he was tall but he had nothing on Constance Clay who was an oak made flesh, towering and strong and safe. The braids that framed her face were always a favourite target for his grabbing toddler hands and a model for his own when he grew, though he could never match her intricacy. She looked so much like him, more than his papa, more long than round, wiry. Caduceus had always hoped that one day he’d be as strong as she was, rather than feeling like he bent in every stiff breeze. 

“It’s good to hear you too, Mama…”

There was a pause before she spoke again, “My boy, are you sure you’re alright?” 

Really, he’d been a fool to think she wouldn’t notice. Her sharp purple eyes, the colour of new bloomed violets, didn’t miss anything and apparently neither did her ears. When he’d done something wrong- broken a plant pot and promptly fled or lured his brother outside in the rain then locked him out- Constance had always known without any need for investigation. When he was sad without really knowing why or he’d been angry at nothing or had one of those childhood bad moods brought on solely by tiredness, she had known why and explained to him patiently or else just pressed a cup of tea on him that somehow sorted him out.

“It’s just…” he sighed, wanting one of those cups of tea very badly right now, “It’s just been a hard day, Mama.”

That was an understatement. Since Fjord had made his doorstep announcement, the whole atmosphere had frosted, every interaction between them difficult and awkward and stiff. It was as if the past months where they’d laughed and talked and tangled their lives together had never happened, all of that growth trampled down. Both had breathed a sigh of relief when any customer had walked in and given them some relief from the gasping silence but that didn’t happen nearly enough. Far too much time having to make up tasks to keep the maximum amount of space between them so they could pretend the emotional distance that had been thrown up between them was there by choice. Afraid to look at each other, afraid to speak, feeling every tick of the clock like a blow. And as soon as the sign had flipped to closed, Cad didn’t think the cafe had ever been packed down so quick and in such horrible, awkward silence. 

And tomorrow they’d need to do it all again. And then he’d likely never see Fjord again, certainly never the vulnerable, soft, hopeful young man that, yes he couldn’t lie, he’d lost his heart to. 

For all the good that would do him. 

“Some days are, my boy,” his mama said gently, “And some days aren’t. Those days will come back around again.”

Cad felt the tears break free from behind his eyelids and drip down his cheeks, catching in his fur, “I just...I thought I did everything right, Mama. I was so sure of it but I just ended up making it so much worse and now he’s in real danger. I thought he...I thought he wanted to be close to me but I was just being an idiot.” 

There was a soft sigh at the other end of the line, like a breeze through tall grass, “There are some choices we can’t make for others, no matter how much we want to. You taught me that, my boy.” 

“I...I did?”

“You did. I made a choice for you in my own head, we all did, and we never even asked if that was what you wanted,” Constance’s voice was soft, “And I’m very sorry for that, Caduceus.”

It was so strange to hear his own parent apologising to him, like he hadn’t quite heard her right, like it was a language he’d forgotten. But something deep inside him exhaled at those words. 

“I’m sorry too,” he murmured, his voice thick with his tears, “For how I left, for...for it all, I guess. That this was the path I needed to go down.”

“Don’t apologise for that,” her voice was soft, not an admonishment, “That wasn’t your doing. And...well, I would have railed against anything that took my boy far from me, even if it came from our goddess' own lips. Just as I railed against what took me away from you for all those years. But again...some things we can’t change. Like we said.” 

Cad sat back, leaning against the wall. He’d never considered that, that all the missions taking his family away from the grove and away from him, had sat unkindly with everyone. 

“But I don’t know what to do, Mama,” he eventually sighed, “He’s slipping out of my reach and I still want to help him so badly but the more I help, the further away he seems to get.”

“The only thing you can do, my boy, is what we all have to learn to do, me included,” Constance replied, “We need to have faith that happiness and safety will find those we love, in the way that suits them best. We can’t force it on them or steer them towards it...but we can leave the light on for them. No matter what.”

Cad nodded slowly, seeing the wisdom in that. It wasn’t what he wanted to be told, of course, he wanted to be told that there were some magic words he could say to Fjord to make him suddenly stay and give him his heart and make everything perfect. But there was some peace in accepting that just wasn’t possible. 

He felt his mother’s words slip under the heavy, dark weight in his chest and help him lift it just that little bit higher. 

It would be so easy just to say the words, say he wanted to come home. To run back to the grove and hide away from the world that had hurt him so much and leave behind the world he loved so much. To go back to where his tasks were small and simple and made sense and he was never at risk. 

But that wasn’t his path. That wasn’t growing. 

“I am proud of you, Caduceus,” Constance murmured, “And I am sorry it took me so long to get here.” 

“And I’m sorry it took me so long to call,” Caduceus managed a shaky smile, earning him his mother’s dry chuckle that he’d missed more than he’d realised. 

“You could always come for a visit if you needed some space?” Constance hummed, hope in her voice, before she hastily added, “Only if you wanted to, of course. There’s no pressure.”

Those words sounded so strange in her voice that Cad had to laugh, “Okay, mama. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome...and I hope things work out with him, Caduceus. I really do.”

Cad’s smile turned wan, “No comment on me basically coming out to you then?” 

“Oh, my boy, did you think I was blind?”

Cad laughed harder, wondering how his mama’s magic worked, how she’d gotten him to laugh so freely when he’d felt so broken just five minutes ago, when he knew the pain would come rushing back at him as soon as he was alone again, “I suppose…and it is the second time, I guess. Technically”

“Then I will tell you the same thing I told you when you came out as trans,” Constance murmured, “You are mine and I love the very bones of you. And nothing will change that.” 

Caduceus folded his free arm around himself and imagined she was holding him, “I liked hearing it again…but I should go, mama. I’ll call soon.”

“Good,” Constance had a smile in her voice, “Sleep well, my boy, and have faith. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama…”

It was painful, when he pressed the button and the silence flooded in, just the buzz of the electricity in the wires, other conversations happening all over the city. There was still so much more to say, to his mama, to the rest of his family. 

But he could see the light left on for him. And it helped so much.

Rather soon into their conversation, Cad had to ask Beau and Fjord to take it outside. It was getting too loud.

He watched them through the window, past the giant mushroom Jester had painted so long ago, saw their faces redden and contort with anger and frustration, their hands gesturing, Beau somehow managing to loom over him despite the significant height advantage and force him to have to push back. He couldn’t hear what they were saying through the glass but he could guess at it. 

The Nein had been coming in dribs and drabs to say their goodbyes to Fjord all day and none had been pretty to watch. It was clear that none of their friends were pleased by the decisions he was making but they hid their anger and misgivings in genuine hugs and well wishes. 

Beau was clearly not willing to do that. 

She’d thrown back the door about an hour before closing, when there’d just been a few customers in line to get a coffee for their commute home, pointed at Fjord who was in the middle of putting fresh flowers on the tables and loudly asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing. 

That was when Caduceus had asked them to step outside. 

He did catch a few snatches of their exchange, as alarmed looking customers entered and left. 

“You’re a fucking coward, ignoring my calls all day like I wasn’t going to come down here and confront you…”

“I don’t need your approval for every decision I make, Beau!”

“After everything Caduceus has done for you…”

“Where was all this last time I went offshore? Just because it’s with Avantika you have a problem?”

_ “FUCKING EXACTLY!” _

Cad winced, trying to busy himself with the dishes, trying not to look like he was watching. But he did see when eventually Beau and Fjord made the same, eerily similar gesture of frustration and broke apart, Beau storming off down the street and Fjord stomping back into the cafe. His hands were shaking and he was still muttering under his breath as he went back to the flowers, somehow managing to set them out with such anger that Cad was afraid the pots would crack. 

Cad wanted to call out to him. He wanted to hold him and let him cry and tell him everything was going to be okay, that the words and the wounds they’d made would fade and they’d be friends again. 

But he didn’t. He just watched though the hatch as Fjord swallowed more anger and more shame and let it become part of himself. 

The last few minutes of the work day ticked away and Cad realised that was it. No miracle had manifested, no sudden change of heart. Fjord wouldn’t be turning up at 6am just like he had been for the last months, making Cad’s day brighter just by walking through the door. It sank in which such horrible sharpness that he couldn’t believe something he’d already known could hurt him so much. 

But he packed it away, put it on a shelf so he could take it down later and deal with it. All he needed to do now was be a friend to Fjord. 

“I guess I’ll let you choose the music,” he said, coming out from behind the counter and approaching the speakers, “Seeing as it’s your last chance. Anything but that one from the other day.”

Fjord gave a strained smile, “Rap is poetry, man. You just don’t get it.”

“Oh, I agree that rap is poetry,” Cad raised an eyebrow, “But that wasn’t rap you put on. It was someone having a seizure into a microphone.” 

That got him a rough laugh, “Fine, not that. Just let your playlist run...I, um, I actually like everything you’ve got on there. I’ve been listening to a lot of it outside of here. Learning some of it in the guitar too, actually.”

Cad opened his mouth to gently joke that he’d have to play him something, maybe do an open mic at the cafe one weekend, before he realised that would never happen. So he just weakly said, “That’s great.”

The days were getting longer and warmer so the sunsets were getting bigger. The whole place seemed flooded with an orange glow, the sky’s fire bleeding in through the windows and making everything seem so otherworldly. But still, in this strange other world, they went about their usual jobs- setting the chairs on the tables after wiping them down, sweeping away the crumbs to vacuum up, watering the plants and moving them around- like things weren‘t different. Like all days after would be the same. 

They talked. Haltingly at first, awkwardly, but then something clicked and before long they were laughing over small things like they’d always done, Cad talked to his plants and Fjord whistled while he worked, being blissfully silly, sharing their tiredness and their sense of jobs well done. As if they’d both realised they needed this. 

And too soon, it was over. There were no more tasks left, the day had ended under them and left them floundering. They’d stretched it out as much as they could, suddenly deciding without a single word needing to be exchanged that the tea boxes needed dusting and the kettle needed deliming and Helga needed a polish. 

It was dark by the time they finished, their beautiful golden moment lost to a cool, purple night and the two of them stood, looking at each other by the door and waiting to see what would happen next. 

“Well…” Fjord cleared his throat, untying his apron and folding it up, “I guess I should give you this back.”

“Oh no,” Cad shook his head, “Please keep it. I made it for you.” 

Fjord’s cheeks darkened, “Thanks...I don’t know what use I’d have for it on a ship but thanks…”

“Well maybe this will give you an excuse,” Caduceus pulled a box out from behind his back, “I made you a cherry and strawberry pie. And I wrote the recipe on the inside of the box so you could make some of your own. I thought maybe when you were in port you coud treat yourself?”

Fjord chuckled, taking the box, “Thanks Caddy. That’s real nice. I can’t believe you remembered my favourite thing…”

Cad fought to keep his smile on his face at the fact that Fjord didn’t even think himself worthy of a small amount of his memory, “Of course I remembered. You’re my friend, Fjord.”

He bit his lip, eyes sliding down like he couldn’t bear the weight of that, quickly continuing, “It’s gonna be real hard avoiding the temptation to just eat the whole thing on the bus ride back.”

Cad frowned, “The bus?”

Fjord blinked, like he didn’t see why that was worth picking up on, “Oh yes, um, Avantika is out in town getting things for the move and she can’t swing by, it’s no trouble getting the bus home. It's kind of long but I like it, I listen to podcasts and stuff...”

Cad sighed, ears drooping, “Fjord, please let me drive you home. Please. It’s so late.”

“Cad, I can’t let you do that, it’s so far out of your way…”

“Fjord, I want to do this for you,” Cad spoke slowly, carefully, trying so hard not to say more than he wanted to, “You’re my friend and it’s late and cold and I want to give you a ride home. Please?”

Fjord seemed to flounder for a moment but then, thank god, he nodded, “As long as you really don’t mind…”

“Not at all,” Cad insisted, smiling gently, “Thank you.”

Cad’s car was something of an engineering marvel, exclusively because it was still running. He’d had it since the grove, finding the shell of it in the forest and slowly acquiring the pieces he needed to get it running again, fixing it up to run on biofuel. You could find most anything in amongst the trees, if you looked hard enough. There was still fungus growing in the glove compartment and branches in the front grate that he couldn’t take out because he was pretty sure they were part of the engine now but it was enough to get him from work and back. 

The hideous shade of electric purple had been his own choice.

Fjord looked alarmed when he saw it, “Mercy…”

“It still runs,” Cad insisted, moving into the driver's seat, “Just some soil on the floor, that’s all. Oh, you’ll need to move the bee bucket, just toss it in the back.”

“The...bee bucket?” Fjord said uncertainty, holding the bright yellow bucket in his hands, “Why is it a bee bucket? The colour?”

“Oh, um, no,” Cad fumbled for his keys, “Y’know Patsy, the sweet old lady who comes in? She had a group of bees make a hive in her wall and she was going to call the exterminator but I asked her if I could take them instead. I took them home in that bucket.”

“Alright then,” Fjord spoke like he was putting a definite end to that conversation, tossing it into the back seat. 

Cad laughed, putting the key in the engine as soon as Fjord was sat down, pulling them out of the lot in a puff of acrid smoke. 

“You know, Caddy,” Fjord looked over at him, “You are one of the strangest and sweetest people I’ve ever met.”

Cad kept his eyes firmly forward, though he didn’t think he could fully hide how much the sudden tenderness surprised him. Or how much it pleased him. 

Fjord gave him directions in between humming the last song they’d listened to as the radio in the car didn’t work. The more directions came, the lower and more lost his voice seemed to get, like the buoyancy and brightness Cad knew him for was leeching away the closer they got. Cad’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Did this happen every time? The Fjord he knew and, yes, loved, shrinking down and hiding himself inch by inch as he drew closer to home?

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. 

Eventually, Fjord mumbled, “Um, yeah, you can just pull up on the corner. This is plenty close.”

Cad didn’t argue as he pulled over. He didn’t want to know what kind of unspoken, unspeakable rules Fjord might break if he was seen getting out of a friend’s car. 

The seconds ticked by, plenty of chances to get out of the car but Fjord didn’t move. Cad looked over and saw his eyes fixed forward, looking off into the darkness punched through by the streetlights though it was clear that wasn’t what his mind was seeing. And he looked so lost. 

Cad’s throat tightened.  _ Leave the light on. That’s all you can do. _

“Fjord…” he murmured, daring the slightest lean forward into the space between them. 

He looked like some kind of god in this light, barely visible, just his edges outlined in the gold of the halogen lamps standing sentinel. A lost and lonely god, uncertainty etched onto his face, a broken statue put back together with gold. He was so, so beautiful. 

And then there was a breeze. The windows were rolled up, they were idling on an empty city street. But there was a breeze nonetheless, scented like the deepest depths of the grove, and it passed between them as undeniable as their own names. 

“My last ship sank,” Fjord murmured, voice so small it was hard to hear, “I’ve never...I’ve never told anyone. But the reason I came home was because it sank. I nearly died choking on black seawater, watching the men I’d lived with for years dying around me and the only home I’d ever known shattering into a million pieces.” 

Cad’s jaw fell open, his eyes wide, “Oh Fjord…”

Fjord kept speaking, like he couldn’t stop, like blood coming up from an old wound reopened, “I washed up somewhere near Port Dumali, some fishermen dragged me out of the shallows. I had no business being alive but...I was. I hitched a ride to the port and I was looking for a ship home, back to the city, but as soon as I had nothing but a deck between me and the sea again, I...I threw up. I shook. I cried. I just couldn’t. I took a coach home, slept in bus stations, found my way back. And I lied to everyone about it, saying I’d just outlived my usefulness on the Tide’s Breath.” 

“Why lie?” Cad breathed, still stunned.

“Because how could I admit what had happened?” Fjord’s voice became fragile and thin, “Vandran, my captain, was gone but I could hear his voice in my head telling me I had to be strong, that I couldn’t show weakness. That I had to be a man. How could I tell the ghost of the only father I’d ever known that I couldn’t even set foot on a fucking ship?” 

“Oh Fjord…” Cad murmured. 

“And...well, you’ve seen Avantika,” Fjord’s mouth twisted, “Imagine what she would have said. What she’d still say, if I walked in there and told her right now.” 

Cad couldn’t answer that, he couldn’t say it out loud but the truth was there in the air between them. 

“And now she wants me to go back out there with her. And I’m so scared. I always have been, I’ve just been so fucking scared my whole life and I felt like I could paint over it with Vandran, with Avantika and eventually I’d forget it was there but now I can feel it and I can’t breathe with the weight of it and I don’t know why I’m like this…” Fjord was sobbing now, his shoulders shaking, “Why am I like this? Why am I so fucking broken?”

Cad reached over and fastened his hand on Fjord’s shoulder, holding him fast like an anchor in the sand, “Fjord, breathe. All you have to do right now is breathe. Please?”

It took a few moments but his chest began to rise and fall in some kind of rhythm. Cad nodded, chanting him in and out until he wrestled back some kind of control. 

“Fjord, there is...so much pain in you, more than I realised and we don’t have to face it all right now,” Cad said, “But I need you to hear that you aren’t broken. Being scared, feeling vulnerable, that doesn’t make you broken. Someone’s given you a list of things and told them you have to be all of them to be worth anything but they were wrong. They were so wrong.” 

Fjord looked at him, like all that was keeping him grounded was Cad’s hand on his shoulder, “But...if I get rid of all of that, what do I have left?”

“Someone who makes other people laugh,” Cad replied without hesitation, voice strong and sure in the way he’d always hoped it would one day, “Someone with a wonderful, infectious smile. Someone who's kind by default and seeks to help others and lead them and find a way to make things better for them. Someone strong for his own reasons, by his own measure. Someone incredibly special to a lot of people, including me.”

Fjord had shrunk away from every compliment and kind word Cad had given him but this time he didn’t. This time he looked for a way in. 

“Cad…” 

“Fjord,” he answered, saying it clearly, honestly, hearing the value in it, “You might now believe in yourself right now and I don’t blame you. But I believe in you. Can that be enough, until we can sort out the first part?”

“But what do I do tomorrow? Fuck, what do I do ten seconds from now, I don’t know…”

Cad gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Whatever you think is right. Remember what I said, change is always possible. It’s never too late to find your own happiness.”

Something helped him remember and he reached into his pocket, pulling out the talisman from just three days before. Had he really left it in his pocket? He couldn’t say but it didn’t matter. He pressed it into Fjord’s palm. 

“She will forgive you, Fjord, if you’d like her to. But I think what’s more important is that you forgive yourself.”

Fjord held the stone tight but he didn’t take his eyes from Cad. And slowly, slightly, he nodded. 

Cad felt hope and relief explode in his chest. That was all he needed, just the knowledge that Fjord had at least heard him, that he’d seen the light left for him. 

And then he did something Cad hadn’t even dared hope for. 

He leaned in and kissed him. 

At first he was too shocked to do anything, muscles going stiff, eyes widening. And then, feeling guilty, feeling selfish, feeling euphorically happy, he kissed Fjord back, lowering his ears and tilting his head, eyes closing softly. 

It was the sweetest heartbeat and a half of his life.

That was how long it took for Fjord to jerk away like he’d been punched in the stomach, pressing himself against the door of the car. He looked horrified. 

“Fjord?” Cad gasped out, in freefall. 

“I’m sorry…” he managed to choke out before he wrenched the door open and ran out, like he was fleeing for his life. 

He didn’t look back. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord and Caduceus get the happy ending they deserve
> 
> WARNING: This chapter deals with physical domestic violence, it doesn't happen on page but the results are seen. Also, conversations around internalised homophobia

“Are you really going to let him leave without saying goodbye?”

It was all Yasha had said to her that evening, since she’d come storming in after her disastrous ‘conversation’ with Fjord. Not at first, of course, both of her girlfriends knew better tha to approach her when she was in a mood like that, giving her space to burn her anger away. Jester, of course, had immediately crept onto the sofa as soon as the coast was clear, wrapping her soft arms around her and not asking for an explanation, just holding. 

Yasha didn’t speak her love through touch as much as Jester, instead there was a cup of warm tea in front of her all of a sudden and the strong, sure presence behind her he knew so well, a hand on her shoulder. 

And those words, in her quiet, level voice. 

Jester looked like she wanted to say more, that expression on her face like she was just full of words and was about to burst, until Yasha laid a gentle hand on top of her head and suggested that maybe she could go and help her make dinner. The tiefling bit her lip and flared her nostrils but eventually nodded and hopped over the back of the sofa, Yasha turning after her and leaving Beau with those words. 

“Are you really going to let him leave without saying goodbye?”

Not admonishing or judging, there was none of that in her tone, as steady and sure as the sight of home from a long distance. It was just another moment where Beau felt her girlfriends knew her better than she knew herself, like they saw what was under the anger at the surface, the anger that many would assume was all there was to her. So many that sometimes Beau would believe it. 

Because of course she wasn’t going to let her best friend go for gods knew how long without a goodbye. She couldn’t have their last interaction be them screaming at each other on a street corner, throwing words like weapons. No matter how she felt about his choices, he was still her friend. They’d been through far too much to leave it like that. 

It had just taken her up until now to realise it. 

Sighing, Beau unfolded herself and stood up, heading for the door, “I’m going to go to Fjord’s.”

Relief flooded Jester’s expression and Yasha gave a small nod, “We’ll have dinner ready for when you come back.”

Beau gave them both a rueful smile, taking a moment to admire the simple domesticity of them with Jester chopping carrots and Yasha stirring a pot on the stove. She couldn’t believe this was her life now, after so much time believing she was undeserving of anything half as lovely. A square window of warm yellow light on a dark street, always there for her. 

And she would repay them by continuing to get better. 

Beau shouldered on her jacket and slipped her feet into her comfy walking trainers, already planning out what she was going to say, how she was going to rescue the clusterfuck that had been their last interaction. At least it wasn’t the first time they’d had to do this, they were practically experts at navigating their way back to friendship after both letting their anger do the speaking for them. 

She was a second from putting her hand on the door when someone knocked on it. 

Frowning, Beau opened the door and sucked in a sharp breath. 

Fjord stood on their doormat, panting heavily like he’d run there. A gym bag sat at his feet, haphazardly stuffed and hastily zipped. He was shivering in just a t-shirt and jeans, the cold night air turning his joints a harsh, dark green, arms wrapped around himself protectively and his eyes red and raw. 

And an angry swelling around one streaming eye. 

“I…” his voice was raspy, like he was struggling to get the words out, “Um, I broke up with Avantika. Can I sleep on your couch tonight?”

Fury flooded Beau within an instant, her jaw clenching hard and her hands turning into white knuckled fists. Adrenaline snapped hard in her chest, making her voice a low growl, “I’m going to kill her. I’m going to  _ fucking _ kill her.”

Fjord closed his eyes, shrinking down, looking so completely defeated, like a man with water up to his jawline and rising, “Beau...please, I...I just need a friend right now. Please?”

Beau found it hard to control her emotions, as a rule, particularly negative ones. They seemed to take root in her, in her muscles and chest and nerves, and take over until it was so hard to care about anything else. 

But the one thing Beau did care about more than anything was the people she loved. 

So she inhaled deeply, feeling it fill her up, as the monks had taught her. And as she exhaled, her jaw unclenched, her fingers spread and palms opened. 

“Of course,” she reached out and put her hand on Fjord’s arm, gently bringing him inside, “Jester can have a look at that eye and we’ll make a bed up for you. Stay as long as you like, man, seriously.” 

Fjord’s lower lip trembled and he bit down on it, hard, just nodding. 

“Hey,” Beau murmured quietly, dropping her voice before folding him into the attentions of her family, the wide eyes and gasps and immediate action, the realities of his healing, “You’re safe here. Okay?”

Fjord gave a shuddery gasp and in it Beau could hear every time he’d let something slip as a teenager about the realities of the Asylum, every disastrous break up with women he couldn’t force himself to love, every impossible rule he’d been given to live by, every nightmare and flinch away from a raised voice, every scar he’d been given by so many people. She heard a lifetime of hurt start to shift like an earthquake starting to stir. 

“Okay,” Fjord breathed, tears starting to fall. 

Caduceus stayed in bed far past his alarm, lying on his side and listening to it’s dull buzz in the predawn gloom. He’d been awake long before it sounded but now it had, he couldn’t bring himself to move. 

All he could do was replay the kiss over and over in his mind, the last moments he would ever spend with Fjord. He frantically searched for something, anything he could have done to change the outcome, changing his words and actions over in his mind like puzzle pieces he couldn’t make fit. Was there any way he could have kept Fjord close to him, taken the fear out of his eyes, any way he could have turned him around in the darkness?

He knew it would do no good but he couldn’t stop his mind chewing it over, punishing himself for every choice and everything he could have done differently. 

It was as if the clocks had turned back on him and he was the firbolg he’d been two years and change ago. The one with weights on his wrists and ankles keeping him pinned to his too small bed, lost and depressed and scared to go out into the loud, foreign city he didn’t know, endlessly punishing himself for leaving too soon, for leaving too late, for leaving full stop. Falling before he’d even taken his first step, building walls around himself when he’d worked so hard to be free.

He couldn’t bear that again. So Caduceus did what he had done two years ago and touched the earring that looped through his right ear. He’d always played with his ears as a child, running his fingers over their soft edges to calm himself whenever he was anxious. Apparently he’d done it as a baby too, when he’d been born with the largest set of ears any of his family had ever seen on a newborn, so the story went. So when he’d been thinking where to set his mark of the Wildmother, the choice had seemed obvious. 

He ran his thumb over the carved, polished oak, following the whorl of the wood and took a deep breath. 

“Please give me strength,” he murmured, “I’m going to need you to get through today. And...wherever he is, please protect him. Please make sure he’s okay.” 

And then he got up, far from ready to face the space in the cafe beside him that would always feel empty, but at least able to try. 

He tried to focus on simple things, once the door to the cafe had closed behind him, letting out it’s usual cheery ring. 

Take off your coat. Hang it up. Take out your apron. Put it on, double knotted at the front. Take the first chair down. Then the next. Then the next. 

Simple instructions for an exhausted brain and an aching heart. And it worked, for a time. It stopped him thinking about how Fjord would be coming up the street right now, how the bell would seem extra bright when he pushed it back. How he would call out a friendly hello and probably use some slang term Caduceus wouldn’t understand but he would put together from context. How he’d be wearing shorts, even in the cold and Cad would tease him for it and Fjord would jokingly call him his grandmother in return. How he’d help him take the chairs down, going twice as fast as he did, asking when Cad would be putting the croissants in the oven because it just so happened he’d missed breakfast that morning, just a coincidence. How he’d call him Caddy and be the only person who ever had. 

Maybe it wasn’t working as well as he’d thought. 

Fortunately, the ringing of the bell above the door gave him something else to think about. 

“I’m sorry, we’re not quite open yet,” Cad straightened up, “But if you’d like to take a seat, I can get the kettle on…”

“I think I’d like that,” Fjord answered, his voice small and hopeful, “If you had the time.”

Caduceus froze, eyes widening, wondering if he was still back in his bed, listening to the alarm and had finally drifted to sleep. But he never would have imagined Fjord like this, looking so tired and hollowed out, with a fading, sickly yellow shadow over one eye and a fresh scab on his lip. 

The marks were all he could see, hand lifting to touch them, heal them without question but he forced himself to stop, “Who…”

Shame darkened Fjord’s expression and he hunched his shoulders, “Um...Avantika…”

Cad’s jaw dropped and he felt a pit of disbelief open up inside him, quickly filled by an anger he’d only felt rarely but when he did, it was like a forest bursting into flames, “What?”

Fjord winced, “Don’t worry, I’m done with her. I mean it, for good. She’s leaving anyway and...and I just want to let it go, okay?”

Cad quelled his anger, tucking it away to examine later, “So...she’s going and you’re…”

Fjord smiled then, even as it clearly tugged painfully on his lip, “I’m staying.”

Cad blinked, shaking his head slowly, wanting to believe it so desperately but terrified of being hurt again, pulled in two directions at once, “You’re staying? For good?”

Fjord nodded, “With Beau and Jester and Yasha until I can sort something more permanent than their couch. I mean, I still need to get stuff from...from her place and...I-I’ve never really put down roots anywhere so…”

He even sounded different. His accent had shifted slightly, like a layer of it had been pulled away. A lot of him seemed to have been pulled away, actually, pared back and stripped down and he was trying to figure out what was left. 

“I’d like to work here again, if you’d have me,” Fjord asked shyly, “I mean, I’d completely understand if you weren’t comfortable with that. After...after everything.”

_ Yes _ , Cad wanted to answer wholeheartedly but he made himself stop. 

“After what, Fjord?” he said instead, “I think we need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be right now but we need to.”

Fjord shook his head, “No. I mean, thank you but no. You’re right, we need to talk about it and we need to talk about it now. I’ve waited far too long already.” 

Cad nodded and gestured to the table he stood by. None of the tables or chairs in the cafe matched, as he’d sourced them from half a hundred different thrift stores and flea markets and scrap yards. This one was black wrought iron with a mosaiced top, flowers done in squares of leaded glass. It was a table made for partners, for third or fourth dates, only big enough for two people to sit close with not an inch of spare space. 

Fjord sat across from him willingly. He’d looked like he’d slept in the clothes he was wearing and judging by the room, they were probably Yasha’s. Cad wondered if the ladies even knew he was here, as early as it was. 

“I, um…” Fjord cleared his throat, “I want to apologise for the kiss last night. Not that I did it, just the way I reacted. Well...maybe how I did it too. That wasn’t how I’d want our first kiss to go. What I mean is, I want to kiss you, Caduceus. I...I like you. In that way.”

Cad felt something come to life in his chest, a fluttering that settled in his throat as his heart began to pound, “I like you in that way too, Fjord. I have for a while.”

Fjord’s golden eyes widened, “Really? I...I hoped, I thought I saw it sometimes but I didn’t know if I was seeing what I wanted to see.”

“Neither did I,” Cad smiled kindly. 

That made him smile again, that shy hesitant smile. He took a deep breath, fixing his gaze on the table top while he marshalled his thoughts, like he was having to rearrange everything with this new information.

“Um...it might seem stupid but knowing I...I can feel this way, I’ve kind of only known it since yesterday. Well, not really, it’s always kind of been there but up until now I tried to hide it, even from myself. It just wasn’t something I could be, it wasn’t allowed in the world I lived in until I met you,” Fjord swallowed hard, “In the orphanage, I would have been beaten up for it. In high school I would have been even more rejected than I already was, on Vandran’s ship, I...I would have lost the only man who I could call a father. But I didn’t realise how much it was hurting me, how...how it was like an infection? The more I tried to hide this part of me, the sicker I got, the more twisted, the more sad.”

Cad only nodded and gazed at him, trying to be a constant, sure presence. 

“But...I’m done feeling sick,” Fjord took a shaky breath, “I’m done hiding it. I’m...I’m gay,” his voice broke almost immediatley and his face crumbled, tears flooding into his eyes, “Gods, I’m sorry…”

Cad leaned forward, voice soft, “Oh, Fjord, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay...can I touch you?”

Fjord nodded wordlessly as his shoulders shook, gripping back just as tight when Cad wound their fingers together and held fast. 

“It’s okay,” Cad stroked his thumb across his knuckles, feeling the scars and callus there, “Fjord, it’s okay to feel grief, it’s okay to feel lost and confused and happy, all of these things come with realisations like this. But I need you to understand you’ve just done a wonderful, brave, beautiful thing and I am so very proud of you.”

Fjord didn’t fight his tears, they fell on their joined hands as he gasped out, “But...I don’t know when I’ll feel comfortable kissing you, I don’t know when I’ll be able to say ‘I love you’, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to have sex with you...Cad, I can’t ask you to take all this on.”

“Yes, you can,” Caduceus said, firmly, “You can, Fjord, because you are worthy of love. You are worthy of patience and care and kindness. You can always ask. And I am saying yes.”

Fjord gave a sodden, shaky gasp and collapsed fully into his tears, pitching forward, stumbling until Caduceus caught him. He caught him and he held on tight, as strong as any anchor had ever held a ship, folding him into his arms and letting him sob into his chest. With the scent of fresh breeze and dew heavy flowers around them, Caduceus held the man he loved and who loved him back and let him cry. As he would through so many hard days and difficult times. 

Eventually, Fjord’s tears ran out. In Cad’s arms he felt so small, like he’d shrunk down without the weight of the poison he’d purged. He let him pull away for air, holding his face in his hands and stroking his damp cheeks so gently. 

He wasn’t looking at the mask of a man who had believed all the lies he’d been given and swallowed the hate he’d been shown for long, long years. But nor was he looking at the man who’d made him laugh so much, who’d been occupying his cafe for the last months, the one who had reached out to the Wildmother and Caduceus with hope and desperation in his eyes.

Caduceus was looking at someone new, someone halfway between those two and someone entirely himself. He was looking at Fjord at the very start of a long and difficult journey. He was looking at the man he now realised the Wildmother had put him on this earth to love. 

They kissed, a soft and gentle kiss, shy and sweet as honey. And this time, Fjord smiled from ear to ear.

It would be hard for both of them at times. They would both struggle and cry and need different things at different times. But it would always wash up better than when they started, they would grow together stronger.

And both of them knew the light would always be left on.

A year was a long damn time to keep a secret. Beau was pretty pleased with herself for managing it. 

She would hide her knowing grins behind her coffee cup as they’d all sit together in the Blooming Grove and someone would bring up how strange it was that Caduceus hadn’t found someone for all the time he’d been in the city. She’d feel a burst of pride when one of them would comment on how much happier Fjord was looking, how his tusks were coming in, how therapy seemed to be doing him a world of good, if they really were just going to ignore the fact that his accent had totally changed. She’d snort down laughter whenever Caleb would cluelessly comment that Fjord and Caduceus had been in the back room an awful long time for guys who were just supposed to be getting sugar and why did that take two people in the first place anyway? 

Because she’d spent nearly her whole life looking out for her best friend, ever since they were in high school. There was no way she was going to miss how Fjord would put his hand in places it had no rightful reason to be during work hours, when he thought the counter was hiding them better than it was and Cad happened to be passing by. She wasn’t going to miss how, whenever busy days or stormy weather would have Fjord paled and shaking, Caduceus would be the person he’d turn to. She wasn’t going to miss the extra long lunch breaks in the back room or how late Fjord would come home some nights, after cleaning up apparently took hours longer than expected. 

But she said nothing, shrugging innocently whenever asked, all while watching through the corner of her eye as Fjord stole a kiss to the back of Cad’s hand behind the coffee machine. 

There were no secrets with family after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment, I'd really appreciate it! Gives me the motivation to keep writing!


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